Undisclosed Desires
by HardlyFatal
Summary: Inoue Orihime is dead and living in Kuchiki Byakuya's house. How likely is it for the nicest human on the planet, who also happens to be smokin' hot, to fall for an emotionally constipated elitist snob? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Been a while since I wrote any fanfic; I hope this doesn't disappoint. The title of this story is from the song "Undisclosed Desires" by Muse.**

**This is dedicated to and written for technoelfie.**

**I welcome all feedback and concrit. Thanks for reading! **

**Chapter 1**

Inoue Orihime was dead, and living in his house.

Byakuya's only concern, when Rukia had asked if the girl could stay in the Kuchiki manor after she had died, was of the thriving Gotei rumor mill. Always a primitive and viral force of nature, he had expected the news to get out by the end of the day, and for speculation on "dealings" between himself and Orihime to run rampant by the end of the week.

He had underestimated that period of time by six days.

It had been morning; Rukia had burst into his office at the Sixth Division to request that Orihime move in with them at the manor "just until she figures out what she's doing". He'd wanted to refuse, but at some point over the past ten years, he'd acquired a gravely troubling inability to deny his sister anything. Anything reasonable, that was, and having her dear, newly departed friend as a guest in their home seemed entirely reasonable.

To the best of his recollection, Orihime was the least objectionable of Rukia's mortal friends. The Quincy's loathing for shinigami was palpable, Ichigo's manners were negligible, and Sado was likely to eat even the Kuchiki clan out of house and home. His sole misgiving was that the girl was somewhat attractive, and thus the shinigami rumor mill would commence its churning. Byakuya was determined to evade being ground up by it.

He hadn't counted on the girl herself. He had not seen Orihime in several years, but apparently everyone else had, and thus the speculation about he and her "getting together" was a wildfire throughout Seireitei before he himself had clapped eyes on her.

Renji returned from lunch break with a peculiar expression on his face. "Taichou," he ventured, "I heard that Orihime-chan and you are so in love that she killed herself so you could be together."

Byakuya restrained himself from huffing. Kuchikis did not huff. "Renji," he began patiently, the addendum of 'you idiot' left unsaid but clearly implied, "exactly how likely is that?"

He meant, of course, "How likely is it for me of all people to fall in love with a living human commoner over a century younger than my esteemed self?"

Renji interpreted it as, "How likely is it for the nicest human on the planet, who also happens to be smokin' hot, to fall for an emotionally constipated elitist snob?"

"You're right!" Renji therefore said, scratching his head and grinning. "She's probably still hung up on Ichigo, anyway!"

Orihime was in love with Ichigo? Byakuya's estimation of the girl's intelligence dropped by a quarter. Then he processed Renji's words further; Ichigo did not _return _the lissome Orihime's feelings? His estimation of the boy's intelligence dropped by a half.

Byakuya continued with his workday, aware of and ignoring the avid glances shot his way. Soon it would become old news and thus dissipate.

Then he returned to the manor, saw Orihime, and realized that the news would remain new and fascinating for as long as she was in any direct proximity to himself, because at some point over the intervening years since he'd seen her, she'd become _gorgeous_.

The fresh prettiness of her face had matured into full-blown beauty, with peachy skin over elegant cheekbones, pink lips made for kissing, and big hazel eyes designed to rob a man of all sanity. Her waving chestnut hair fell past a bosom to make Matsumoto sob with jealousy to hips curved in the exact way for male hands to grasp and pull closer. Repeatedly and with accelerating tempo until completion was achieved.

And then she smiled, and went from merely shining to positively _blinding_.

"Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guest, Byakuya-sama," she was saying with a polite bow as Rukia beamed at them from the side. "I will try not to be too much of an imposition!"

And then she _hugged _him.

This was no ordinary hug. Byakuya was pretty sure he'd been hugged at some point in his past (though he was unable to recall the experience) and usual hugs were not this... sensual melding of flesh from chest to knee. Orihime threaded her arms under his captain's haori, around his waist, to press with flat palms on his back so that they meshed even closer. Her face was pressed to his chest, with her lips resting on him where his kosode crossed over his heart. He could feel her warm breath on his skin. She smelled like oranges.

He _loved _oranges.

He had to get her out of here.

Failing that, he had to get _himself _out of here.

He meant to extract himself from her clinging, fragrant embrace. What he did was flash-step out of the circle of her arms and across the room. He could only pray his usual bland expression was holding. Startled, the gazes of both women followed him.

He meant to say, "It is nothing, please make yourself at home."

What actually came out was, "Blargle. Mmado."

Rukia's eyes popped out in alarm. "Nii-sama?"

"Gweh."

"Byakuya-sama? Are you alright?" Orihime was coming toward him again, this time that face creased in concern, little hands out to comfort him or heal him or _touch _him in some way and that sounded _wonderful _and he had to leave.

Thank the gods for shunpou; thank, even, Yoruichi for teaching him how to do it faster than anyone else (except her). He flash-stepped out of the Kuchiki manor and back to the Sixth Division where Renji was still poring over the last of the day's paperwork, even at that late hour.

"Taichou?" he said, raising his head to find his supervisor standing in the office. "Didn't you go home?"

Byakuya took a deep breath, then gazed plaintively at his lieutenant. "Why didn't you warn me about her?"

"I... thought I had?" said Renji, putting his pen down. "You knew there was already a rumor-"

"Not about any rumors. About _her_. And how she... is... now."

Renji's face shifted to an expression of sympathetic comprehension. "Orihime has that affect on a guy. When it happened to me, Rukia saw and almost ripped my ears off." He sighed reminisciently, as if that were a positive memory.

"She _hugged _me."

"She hugs _everyone_. You should have seen the other men today. Ikkaku wanted to kidnap her. Shuuhei was about to propose. And it's a good thing Nanao has that book all the time, she had to _beat _Kyouraku-taichou off Orihime. No joke."

"I was just surprised," said Byakuya, feeling more himself as the minutes passed and Renji regaled him with tales of other men in similar predicaments of losing their minds. Not that it didn't rankle, to be grouped in with that bunch of louts, but at least it meant he was still a reasonably normally-functioning male. "Now that I'm prepared, everything will be fine."

He'd just go home and act like nothing had happened, welcome his new guest to his home, and hide in his private rooms until he was able to escape the next morning. He glanced at Renji.

...who was gazing at him with definite pity. "You can _try _that," Renji said, skepticism thick in his tone, "but, man, it's Orihime. She's..."

His words trailed off as he stared off at the corner, eyes glazing.

Byakuya had a sinking feeling he knew precisely what his lieutenant meant.

Byakuya had Renji fetch them some dinner, then joined him in paperwork while hunched over their cartons of take-out. It wasn't optimal, but he had the feeling it was preferable to trying to maintain his composure. Only when he was sure he could safely return home and avoid both Orihime and his sister- who was sure to have _questions_- did he take his leave of the Sixth Division.

He bypassed the front gate and flash-stepped directly to the verandah outside his bedroom, even managing to place a foot across the threshold, when Rukia appeared at his side. _The girl had the ears of a bat, _he thought depressingly: good for keeping herself alive in battle, not so good when he was trying to sneak around without being noticed.

"Nii-sama, are you... unwell?" she inquired, following him in and waiting for her answer with the immutable patience of volcanic stone. She was well used to her brother's ways, and knew he used silence as a weapon (sometimes an entire battery full of them).

"I am unaccustomed to being embraced," was his response, removing his haori and handing it to her. If she would insist to be present, she would be put to work. Rukia duly began to fold the haori.

"But nothing else is wrong?" She sounded frankly disbelieving. "If you don't want Orihime-chan here-"

"It's fine," he interrupted. "I apologize."

That surprised Rukia to the point that, about to speak again, abruptly fell silent. "Well."

Byakuya steered her toward the door. "Good night."

She turned, peering up at him, confusion still plain on her features. "Nii-sama..."

He shut the door in her face. On the other side, he could hear her sigh before she turned and left.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: thank you, everyone who reviewed! I'm glad you're enjoying this so far :)**

**Chapter 2**

The next morning, Byakuya was feeling much better. He'd had a stern conversation with himself about decorum and pride and after feeling thoroughly embarrassed by his failure to not only maintain his composure, but show his Orihime the hospitality owed to her by dint of being a guest in the Kuchiki household.

A servant brought his morning tea. Feeling back on firm footing after the wobbly ground of yesterday, he was ready to face the day, and Orihime, with his usual chilly assurance.

Then the servant opened the shoji walls of his bedroom to the outside before she left, and Byakuya saw Orihime doing yoga by the koi pond.

The sun had not yet completely risen; its first rays still fell softly on the land, and on her, touching her warm hair with stripes of gentle fire. She wore a tiny shirt that clung lovingly to her stupendous bosom, and stretchy trousers that fit her like a second skin. As he watched in a sort of fascinated horror, she bent over, presenting her curvy backside, before switching angles and bending backward until her breasts were thrust directly up at the sky.

Once she was upright once more, she stuck one leg vertically in the air, grabbing her foot with her up-stretched hand before lowering it again. Then she sank into a split, one leg straight in front while the one in back bent at the knee so her foot was in the air. Then she bent back, breasts once again pushed into high relief, and tilted her head to rest it on her foot.

A burning sensation clued Byakuya to the fact that his hands were shaking so badly that he'd spilled tea from his cup onto his wrist. Muttering a curse, he replaced the teacup on the tray at his side and wiped off his wrist with a corner of his sleeping yukata.

"Will you let me heal that for you?"

Byakuya looked up find Orihime had come to stand before the veranda, blotting her face and throat with a towel. She was glowing with health and exertion; with her hair up in a high ponytail, the fine bones of her face were more obvious, and she looked more adult and less like the teenaged friend of his sister that he was accustomed to.

"I'm fine," he somehow managed to tell her, then directed his attention to his teacup once more, so he'd have something- anything- else to look at.

"I'm sorry," Orihime whispered. Her pretty lips were downturned sadly.

"For what?" This close, he could tell that her tiny shirt was tinier than he'd thought; it barely skimmed her waist and fully revealed the shallow oval of her navel. The stretchy pants were so snug that- _oh, dear Kami_- the cleft between her legs was clearly delineated. Mouth dry, he swallowed convulsively.

"For imposing myself on your hospitality," she said, wringing her hands. "It's obvious you're upset that I'm here."

"I'm not upset." She made him sound like a fragile maiden taken with a fit of the vapors. Kuchikis did not get upset. Not this one, at least.

"I'll leave," Orihime told him, and turned to go.

_Oh, hell._ If she left, it would be everywhere by lunchtime. Worse, Rukia would be appalled and hurt. She would ask him _questions_. It would be vastly annoying.

"Wait." He gulped down his tea, then stood and pursued her down the veranda. She halted but did not turn around, for which he was glad; this would be easier if he didn't have to look at those huge eyes of hers. "You are not an imposition. I apologize for my lack of manners. Please stay."

She turned to him, which had him cursing internally. Her face was alight with hope, and Byakuya felt his lungs shudder in his chest. "You're sure?" she asked breathlessly.

"I'm sure-"

He'd barely gotten the words out before she clasped her hands at her bosom and bounced for joy, the jouncing motion of her breasts drawing his attention like bees to two particularly lovely, nectar-bearing flowers.

"Thank you, Byakuya-sama!" she said happily. "I promise I won't get in your way!"

"See that you don't," he said faintly. Could this be over yet? He wanted nothing more than to return to his room, have more tea, then retire to the bathroom for a chilly shower.

Orihime, however, had other ideas. She put her hands on his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and pressed her lips to his cheek in an enthusiastic kiss.

This, too, had to be something she inflicted on her other unwitting victims, i.e. her friends. Byakuya clenched his fists in the folds of his yukata and bore it with the stoicism that defined him. That shower was going to have to be downright frigid. He wasn't looking forward to it.

But Orihime wasn't acting like this was a common occurrence. She'd gone into the kiss as if it were, but once her lips had met his cheek, she'd frozen. As she was usually an incredibly animated person, this sudden lack of movement seemed distinctly unnatural to Byakuya. As her face moved back, he looked down at her in question.

She was still far, far too close to him; no longer on tiptoes, but her hands were still on his shoulders. Distantly, he was aware that the very tips of her breasts were just barely making contact with his chest. Orihime was gazing up at him, a frown between her eyes and lips parted in soft confusion. Her scent of oranges and female perspiration rose around them in dizzying eddies that had Byakuya's head spinning.

"Byakuya-sama," she whispered, raising herself to her toes once more, mouth primed for another kiss.

And this time, she wasn't aiming for his cheek.

Orihime touched her mouth to his, and her hands left his shoulders to slide up his neck and sink into his hair. His own mouth opened in a silent gasp, and she took shameless advantage of that to slip her tongue in, rubbing over the silken inside of his lips and the tips of his teeth.

"You taste like tea," she murmured against his lips, then slanted her mouth to mesh it more firmly with his.

There was a roaring in Byakuya's ears; he was aware of little for the space of ten full seconds. When the roaring receded, he found he had backed Orihime up against the veranda post and was winding one of her legs around his waist, the better to rock his sudden, burning erection against her. Somewhere in those ten seconds, he'd gotten his hand up her shirt and was still prying her bra up so he could get at her breasts. He was also kissing her as though the fate of the world depended on it, with luscious long strokes of his tongue in her mouth, his lips sliding wetly, sensuously against hers.

Orihime was everything warm and pliant in his arms, more than happy to help him hook her thigh around his hip and peel her bra away to grant him access. He felt light-headed; he had to lock his knees to keep from sliding, boneless, to the veranda. He wanted her naked beneath him, wide open and ready for him, as eager to take him deep as he was to be taken. Her hands were gripping his head tightly, as if she were afraid he'd pull away, and the sensation of her fingers tugging on his hair had him feeling drunk with lust for her. Her breast was overflowing his grasp, the stiff nipple abrading his palm, and her fingers were moving restlessly against his scalp as she sucked on his bottom lip.

"Nii-sama?"

Rukia was still too far to observe them, but her voice from somewhere inside the manor was more effective than a bucket of cold water tossed over them. Control returned to Byakuya between heartbeats; he froze, and in that moment of inaction, was able to catalogue with brutal clarity to exactly what degree they had abandoned themselves. On the veranda. Where the mere action of opening a screen could reveal to everyone what they were up to.

So many emotions. A fierce satisfaction that she wanted him as much as he wanted her; savage enjoyment of sensual pleasure, indulged for the first time in decades; sorrow and wistfulness that he'd never felt such a grinding, sanity-threatening passion for Hisana.

And then fear, because Byakuya was not a man who engaged in matters of sex lightly. Orihime was not a mere acquaintance, and it would be impossible to have a discreet, shallow affair with her. He felt himself poised on a precipice, where the choice he made in this moment would have drastic, even catastrophic impact on the rest of his life.

If they continued, he had little doubt that the gossamer-thin layer of control he'd maintained thus far would snap. Then he'd drag her to his bedroom and screw her in reckless abandon for the rest of the day.

It would be glorious.

It would be all around Seireitei by dinner.

He'd have to make explanations for why he'd missed work. Clan elders would want assurances he had no plans to install her as the next Lady Kuchiki.

...at least he'd get some sex out of it?

Byakuya tore himself from her, flash-stepping five paces back and facing away. "I am sorry," he managed to grind out, struggling to catch his wind.

"Byakuya?" she murmured. He chanced a glimpse at her over his shoulder. It was a grave mistake, severely shaking his resolve, as she was panting through parted, kiss-reddened lips, and her shirt and bra were rucked up to her armpits, revealing both flushed, aroused breasts as they heaved in exertion. He'd even managed to drag the scrunchie from her hair, sending a cascade of chestnut waves tumbling over her shoulder. Her eyes were still fogged with passion as she slumped against the post for support.

She looked, in short, thoroughly debauched, and it took superhuman effort on Byakuya's part to not fling himself forward and rut with her like a beast.

Instead, he closed his eyes and took several deep, hopefully calming breaths. When he felt more in control of himself, he said, "That was an inexcusable mistake."

Orihime didn't say anything for a few long moments, just watched him, and seemed sad. "Ah," she said at last, and ducked her head while she put her clothing and hair to rights.

"Orihime-chan?" Rukia was still in search of one of them; it wouldn't be long now until she found them staring awkwardly at each other. Byakuya had to end this swiftly.

"Please forgive me for my lack of propriety. I hope you enjoy your stay with us." He sounded like the reception desk at a hotel.

She didn't answer right away. "Thank you," she said at last, her voice soft. She sounded confused, and a little hurt. Byakuya closed his eyes. "I'm sure I will."

He nodded, and returned to his room.

Then he had the coldest shower he'd ever inflicted upon himself.

It didn't help as much as he'd hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: thank you for all your kind reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter :) **

**Chapter 3**

The rest of the week passed uneventfully. Byakuya was careful to avoid anything that might cause him to spend any time with Orihime. He kept his shoji screens tightly closed, took his breakfast in his room, and remained at work until only five minutes before dinner, so as to avoid any pre-meal socializing. Arriving at the manor, he'd wash his hands, join Rukia and Orihime for dinner, then lock himself in his office for the remainder of the night.

Fusuma and shoji being what they were, however, meant that Byakuya was very able to hear their conversations once he'd fled. Orihime was being courted not only by every eligible man in the Gotei, it seemed, but by most of the various divisions. She would be taking lessons from various of the captains and lieutenants in their specialties; healing kido from Unohana, defensive kido from Hinamori, offensive kido from Ise Nanao, shunpou from Ukitake.

It was with some alarm that he noted her discussing her upcoming tutelage in swordsmanship at the Eleventh Division; he hoped it would be that bald minion of Kenpachi's rather than the man himself who'd be doing the teaching, or there'd be little left of the girl by lesson's end.

"I'm not sure what to do about all the men, Rukia-chan," Orihime was telling his sister hesitantly. "It wasn't like this the last time I spent more than a few days in Soul Society."

"Last time, you were still underage, and in love with that idiot." Judging by the affectionate venom in Rukia's tone, Byakuya assumed she meant Ichigo. "Now you're in your twenties, and that mess is over with. You're fair game."

"That sounds a little scary. I don't think I want to be... prey." Orihime sounded rife with misgivings, as well she should be. The men of the Gotei hadn't had any new skirts to chase in a long time. Her very novelty, combined with her alluring appearance, would make for an irresistible attraction.

"Let's be practical," said the pragmatic Rukia. "Do any of them stand out more than anyone else?"

"Everyone's got something wonderful and special about them!" Frankly, her optimism and generosity baffled Byakuya, who felt a deep and abiding skepticism at her words. "But... if I _had _to single some out, I guess there are a few who are more special than the others."

"So tell me about them," encouraged Rukia. She was sounding relaxed and content; Byakuya wondered if she'd gotten into his sake stash.

"Ikkaku-san is so funny and exciting!" Orihime began. "Spending time with him is always an adventure. And Shuuhei-san is very smart and talented! Talking to him is interesting, what he says make me see things differently."

"And Ukitake-taichou?" Rukia prodded. _Ukitake _had expressed interest in Orihime? Byakuya felt his eyes popping in shock. If he himself were too old for Orihime, his birthday being at least a century before hers, then Ukitake's being almost two _thousand _years old certainly had to disqualify him... didn't it?

"He's so handsome and sweet and gentle," Orihime replied with a sigh.

"He's the perfect man," Rukia stated, before adding loyally, "after Nii-sama, that is." Byakuya almost smiled, and made a mental note to be especially approving of Rukia at some near point in the future.

"Ah!" exclaimed Orihime, sounding alarmed. "Yes, your brother!"

There was a brief pause. When Rukia spoke again, her voice sounded... sly, somehow. "Saaaaaaay, Orihime-chan, what do _you _think of Nii-sama?" Byakuya erased his previous mental note and replaced it with one to scold her viciously. He stood and approached their shared wall for a better listen anyway.

"Ah!" Orihime repeated, her voice a little... panicky? "He's... he's..." _Out with it, _he thought crossly. "He's very nice!" she said at last.

_Nice? He was _nice_?_

"Nice?" said Rukia. "Nii-sama? Are you _sure_?" She didn't have to sound _so _doubtful about it. He could be nice. He was almost positive of it.

"Nice," Orihime said firmly. Then she faltered, "But he doesn't seem to like me much. I'm afraid I've offended him."

"Orihime-chan," Rukia said, "Nii-sama doesn't like _any_one. Don't take it personally. I'm certain he's not mad at you. If anything, he's just a bit... distracted. He's not used to having guests here. That's all it is." Blessings upon his sister for providing an excellent reason for this week's discomfiture. He erased the mental note to scold her.

"You'll tell me if he is mad at me?"

"Oh, trust me, you won't need me to tell you," said Rukia, amused. "When Nii-sama's angry, you'll know it. We'll all know it. He's not exactly shy about expressing _that _emotion."

"Just all the others?" giggled Orihime.

They were mocking his... appropriate and seemly restraint and commitment to personal decorum? This was insupportable. He felt like rampaging into the other room, like waving Senbonzakura around and possibly even _glaring_- okay, perhaps they had a point.

"Maybe you should date them all," Rukia suggested. "No way to learn which is the man for you without getting to know them a bit."

_What a terrible idea,_ Byakuya thought.

"That's a great idea!" exclaimed Orihime. She even clapped her hands. Byakuya rolled his eyes.

"I'm full of them," Rukia agreed smugly. _Full of something_, he thought sourly. Orihime dating three different men at once was a recipe for disaster; there would be bodies in the streets, once the smoke cleared.

"I'm going to bed right away, so tomorrow comes faster!" The fusuma door opened and closed; her footsteps pattered off toward the guest wing.

There was some rustling, like the fabric of a shihakusho shifting as its wearer stood. After a moment, Rukia's voice came directly from the opposite side of the shoji wall from where Byakuya had stood and listened intently. "She might need some protection from all those eager suitors, Nii-sama," she murmured.

Byakuya's eyes flew open; appalled, he shot back from the wall until he was on the far side of the room. The cheek! The affrontery! The... cheek!

Then Rukia's footsteps were fading into the distance, in the direction of her own room, and Byakuya was left alone with only his scrambled thoughts for company.

_It was all these women, _he thought darkly. From Yoruichi in his long-ago youth, to Hisana, to Rukia, and now Orihime, it was clear he'd never have a moment's peace with them in his life. At least Yoruichi was in exile, and Hisana dearly departed, of course. Orihime would be gone soon enough, and then he'd begin the process of marrying Rukia off. Surely there was some fool man out there who'd want a tiny meddling termagant for a wife.

_Surely?_

Byakuya went to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for your kind reviews! I'm so happy you're enjoying this story! **

**I am currently writing another Orihime/Byakuya fic that is based a little on the same premise (Orihime dies and goes to live in the Kuchiki manor with Byakuya and Rukia) but's it's more of a romantic drama than the comedy I've written in this story. It'll probably end up being around 70k words, with action and trauma and drunken shenanigans and swordfights and flirting. I'm having loads of fun writing it, so I think anyone who likes this pairing will enjoy it as well. ****So keep tuned for when I start posting that in a month or two!**

**I also have a porn-tastic Kenpachi/Isane fic coming (haha) soon. It made my beta LOL so loud in a Starbucks that everyone stared at her, so when I post it, give it a try!**

**Chapter 4**

The next week, Byakuya had no need to go out of his way to avoid Orihime, because she spent each night on a date with a different man. Then she'd return to the Kuchiki estate and regale Rukia with what they'd begun referring to as "the post-mortem", which Byakuya would of course eavesdrop upon from his study.

Date 1: Madarame Ikkaku

"How was your date, Orihime-chan?" asked Rukia upon her friend's return.

"It was good? I think?" Orihime did not sound as if she were entirely sure.

"Ho... let me call for tea," Rukia said, and Byakuya could tell she was grinning. "Let's hear it."

"Well, we ate in the Eleventh Division's canteen," Orihime began.

Rukia snorted. "Ok, minus ten points right there. That's the worst date setting I've ever heard of."

"It's not the most romantic place, no," Orihime said haltingly, clearly not wanting to disparage Madarame. Byakuya thought it very generous of her; he'd want to flay the man alive, personally. The canteen? Utterly tacky. "But I don't think Ikkaku-san has ever taken a girl on a date before. He doesn't seem like he knows what to do on a date."

"Ugh," said Rukia in disgust, a sentiment with which Byakuya could definitely sympathize. "What did you do next?"

"We went to the Eleventh's training yard, and I watched while he fought everyone else."

Rukia paused. "_Every_one else?"

"Except Kenpachi," Orihime confirmed. "He took the seated officers one-by-one, then had the unseated shinigami attack him all at once."

"How hurt was he by the end?" Rukia sounded amazed; Byakuya was less so. This _was _the Eleventh they were discussing; its members gave toughness an entirely new standard.

"Oh, he only had a few scratches," said Orihime. "It was everyone else who was damaged. I spent the rest of the date healing everyone." She sounded a little down, and no wonder; who wanted to spend a date eating in a canteen, watching a lunatic beat up a hundred other lunatics, then doing the equivalent of her day job for an hour?

"So, another ten points for him making you watch him show off," stated Rukia, "and _twenty _points for doing it so you'd have to heal people instead of having fun." She paused; Byakuya imagined she was peering closely at her friend. "Did he kiss you?"

Silence from Orihime, which had him wondering what she was doing until his sister exclaimed, "You're blushing! He _did _kiss you! How was it?" Byakuya scowled.

"It was- it was- something!" She sounded so flustered. He had to find a way to see into that room. "It wasn't bad!"

" 'It wasn't bad' is not the same as 'it was good', Orihime," Rukia stated dryly. "How about some descriptives?"

"Oh, well, I guess... his breath wasn't bad!" Orihime sounded relieved to find something to say. "And his lips weren't chapped, and his mouth wasn't too wet! And he's nice and strong! Strong, very... strong!"

"It sounds like he was too rough with you," Rukia said, her tone a little concerned. "Did he hurt you?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" Byakuya imagined her waving her hands in denial. "It didn't hurt at all! It was just more, uh, forceful than I prefer." Good to hear, or he'd have to maim the man.

"Another minus ten for being too forceful," said Rukia darkly. "That's 50 points total for Ikkaku. I say you turn him down if he asks again." Pause. "Unless you can see dates with him improving at all?"

Orihime sighed. "I don't think they will. All he could talk about was fighting. Or recovering from fighting; he actually knows quite a bit about healing; not kidou healing, of course, but bandaging and splinting and cauterizing and that sort of thing. So we could talk about that a little, but that's what I do all day long. I don't want to talk about healing on a date." She sighed again. "I guess, yes, no more dates with Ikkaku. Though I hope he's not hurt when I turn him down, the next time he asks."

"If he can take on his entire division without being hurt, I think he can handle rejection from one woman," Rukia snarked, and Orihime laughed. Byakuya wasn't so sure; he had a feeling that being rejected by Orihime could make a man's heart shrivel.

"Things will look up!" said Rukia encouragingly. "Who's up for tomorrow?"

"Ukitake-taichou!" replied Orihime happily. "We're going to have dinner at his family's estate!"

"Oooh, that will be nice!" exclaimed Rukia. "I've been there, it's very beautiful." Pause. "I bet you that Ukitake-taichou will more than make up for Ikkaku's lack of romanticness."

"Let's hope!" Orihime said with a giggle.

Date 2: Ukitake Juushiro

The next night, Byakuya made sure that the fusuma screen separating his study from the sitting room where his sister and his guest conducted their "post-mortems" had a half-inch space between it and the wall where he had a clear line of sight of where the two woman usually sat during their conversations. He even positioned a chair just so, for his surveillance comfort.

When Orihime returned from her date with Ukitake, her gait held none of its usual energy; if anything, she sounded like she was dragging her heels a bit. Rukia called for tea, and they got down to business.

"His family compound is so lovely!" Orihime began. "We had a picnic under the stars, and the food was fantastic." She stopped and blushed a little, which Byakuya was embarrassed to find enchanting. "He insisted on feeding me with his fingers. When we were done, we walked around the pond, holding hands and talking."

"Isn't my captain a wonderful man?" asked Rukia eagerly, face shining with loyalty. "What did you talk about?"

"Oh, lots of different things. His brothers and sisters- he has seven! Doesn't that sound like a busy family? We talked about books he's read lately, and how he likes to play Go, and he told me funny stories about when he and Kyouraku-taichou were in Academy together."

Rukia was frowning. "Sounds like he did a lot of talking about himself, and not about you too much." That startled Byakuya; he was thinking how that actually sounded like a rather pleasant evening.

"I guess... but I didn't mind!" She looked down at her lap. "But I did feel... a bit like I was spending the evening with a grandpa. And when he kissed me..." She gave a little sigh. "He's so, _so _handsome, and sweet, and gentle. _Very_, very gentle."

Rukia gave her a rueful little smile. "Too gentle, eh?"

Orihime nodded. "It felt like I was being kissed by a grandpa. I think Ukitake-taichou is a bit too nice for me. I'm more used to cranky boys like Ichigo-kun, and Uryuu-kun, and Bya-" She cut herself off abruptly, which had Rukia perking up like a shark scenting blood in the water.

"Bya... kuya-sama?" she finished for the other woman, her wide, _wide _grin looking particularly shark-like, as well. Byakuya wondered dimly if she'd always been such a feral little thing, even as he felt his senses sharpen in anticipation of Orihime's response.

"Er, yes," the girl confirmed. "It's much more... interesting... when a man has some... edge to him... don't you think?" she said haltingly. "Having someone agree with me all the time... it's not very exciting."

"And you want to be... excited. Like Nii-sama makes you," Rukia paraphrased. Byakuya blinked. Was she trying to set him up with the girl?

Orihime's face flooded with color. "I- I didn't say that!"

"So, you think Nii-sama is boring, then."

"I didn't say that, either! Rukia-chan!" She buried her face in her hands.

"Hey, hey, I'm just teasing, don't be upset," Rukia soothed, patting her arm. "So, let's tally the points. No deductions for crappy food or location, but minus ten for dull conversation and another ten for a boring kiss."

"Minus _twenty _for the kiss," Orihime corrected.

"That bad?" Rukia seemed surprised.

Orihime nodded sadly. "I want to feel like he-" Her blush darkened. "There should be some passion in it, like he can't control his hands, like he... like he _wants _me, you know?" she continued in a whisper. "Like if he doesn't kiss me right that moment, he might die. And I want to feel that way, too, about him."

Rukia was staring at her friend with wide eyes. "Have you ever felt that way about anyone before?"

Orihime nodded again, this time shyly, keeping her eyes fixed on how her fingers were twisting together in her lap. "Years ago, with Ichigo-kun. And... a few days ago..."

Heat lanced through Byakuya's belly; it took everything he had to keep from hissing in surprise. She was talking about how she'd tried to kiss him on the veranda, after her yoga.

"Who? Who?" Rukia squealed, in a very unseemly and undignified way.

But Orihime wasn't telling; she pinched those full pink lips together and averted her face and wouldn't say a word, no matter how Rukia badgered her.

"It will never come to anything," she said stubbornly. "I'm not setting myself up for embarrassment and disappointment."

"Well, at least you've got one more candidate," Rukia sighed. "Tomorrow's Hisagi-san, right?"

Orihime brightened. "Yes! I think he's got real promise!" She pumped her fist into the air in a show of enthusiasm.

Byakuya's gaze narrowed; he, too, thought Hisagi had promise as a prospective boyfriend for Orihime. The idea did not best please him, though he was loathe to identify why, exactly, since the newfound knowledge that Orihime apparently desired him as much as he desired her made him feel a sense of inevitable doom.

It was bad enough to control his own passion; he wasn't sure he'd be able to withstand hers, as well, if she made any sort of concerted effort to seduce him. The very idea made him break out in a lustful sweat.

He looked back to the crack in the fusuma screen, and realized that both girls had left the sitting room. No matter; it was time for bed anyway.

...after another cold shower, perhaps.

Date 3: Hisagi Shuuhei

This time, when Rukia called for tea, Orihime interrupted and requested sake. From his seat at the crack in the fusuma (and don't think it didn't gall him to be reduced to such elaborate snooping), Byakuya could see that her face, usually so happy, was looking a bit haggard.

"That bad?" asked Rukia with sympathy. "What went wrong?"

"Nothing," said Orihime glumly, and splashed a goodly measure of sake into her saucer. "Everything was perfect. Absolutely wonderful."

"So, spill it! I want to hear it all!" Rukia threw herself down on her belly, chin propped on her fists, like a child eagerly awaiting a bedtime story.

"Shuuhei-san has a motorcycle up here, did you know that? He keeps it in a shed out in 14th District in South Rukongai. We went to a nice restaurant, then he took me for a ride through the countryside on the motorcycle, and watched the sunset over a waterfall. It was beautiful." Orihime's voice was dull, and her face lacked any animation at all.

"That sounds amazing! That sounds like the best date ever!" Rukia exclaimed; seeing Orihime's clear dejection, she continued, "...so why do you look like after the waterfall, Hisagi rode the motorcycle over an entire litter of kittens? Didn't he kiss you?"

"Yes, he kissed me," Orihime confirmed. "He's a fantastic kisser, and just handsy enough that I feel sexy but not objectified. It was like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. If Ikkaku is too much, and Ukitake-taichou isn't enough, Shuuhei is just right."

"Then... why do you sound like you're about to either fall asleep, or cry?" Rukia sounded as confused as Byakuya was feeling.

Orihime turned huge, despairing hazel eyes to her friend. "Because he was the wrong man." Her shoulders slumped. "I have this nasty, sinking feeling that unless it's... the right man, it's not going to matter how perfect Shuuhei is."

"Is the right man the one you were telling me about last night?" Rukia asked. "The one who makes you feel like you'll die if you don't kiss him?"

Orihime nodded miserably. "I think I might be in love with him."

Very calmly, Byakuya stood, opened the shoji screen enough to slip outside, and flash-stepped to the closest tree, where he commenced to beat his head upon its trunk.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, here's the last chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I'm so happy you enjoyed it!**

**Don't forget, there's another, longer (~75,000-word-long) Ori/Bya fic coming soon! Put me on author alert so you don't miss it!**

**Chapter 5**

Byakuya spent the rest of the week not even bothering to hide the fact that he was avoiding Orihime; he started taking dinner in his bedroom in addition to breakfast and flash-stepped from there to his study when he needed to perform any work as head of the clan. It wasn't optimal, but it was at least effective, and he began to feel a return of his prized equilibrium where Orihime was concerned.

At least during his waking hours.

While he was asleep, however, all bets were off. His libido was off and running like a half-broken horse just freed from its bridle. He replayed the scene on the veranda a hundred times, with a hundred different endings, all of which managed to end with him sunk eight inches deep in Orihime's wet little quim. He'd wake each morning drenched in sweat, with a fierce headache and an erection that could pound nails.

Tragically, cold showers had begun to have no effect whatsoever; as soon as 'the situation' began to subside, he'd recall how Orihime's yoga pants showed the clear delineation of her labia, or hear her telling Rukia she was in love with him, and up it would spring once more. His only alternative was bringing himself off, during which he'd replay that night's dream and bite his forearm to keep from shouting as he climaxed.

He _had _to get her out of his house.

Rukia had mentioned, during one of the times she'd persisted in knocking on his bedroom door until he relented and opened it, that Orihime's lessons were almost complete and she would soon be ready to become an official member of Fourth Division. Byakuya had sent her off with compliments and congratulations on his behalf for Orihime; it wouldn't be long, now. Soon, she would have her own quarters at the Fourth, and he'd have his home (and his sanity) back.

"Hey, Taichou, I'm off to the Eleventh," said Renji one morning. "Orihime's going to spar with Ikkaku. Should be interesting."

_Or deadly. _Byakuya lifted his head from where he was perusing a report, and frowned. "That sounds..."

"Yeah," Renji agreed. "That's why I'm going. Kotetsu-fukutaichou from the Fourth will be there, too, just in case."

After he left, Byakuya allowed himself to get lost in thought, idly tapping the end of his brush against his chin. It was good that a high-level healer would be present, but that was only effective _after _Orihime got wounded, an idea which he found himself detesting more and more as he contemplated it. In fact, he mused, the idea was stirring up a perplexing combination of horror and rage. And it hadn't even _happened _yet.

Sighing, he resigned himself to the inevitable, and began to make his way to the Eleventh Division's practice yard. He had just arrived when he heard the crowd shout in alarm. Byakuya flash-stepped to the roof of one of the buildings to see what was happening.

Ikkaku was there, his sword in _shikai_, but it was Kenpachi that Orihime was battling.

"Stop me," Kenpachi shouted, whacking her shields into pieces over and over. "Stop me. Stop me. Stop me!"

Orihime's shield didn't hold. His sword flew through it like it wasn't there, and continued on its trajectory toward her. She'd only been dead a few weeks; she had no _shunpou _training, and no avenue of escape.

Byakuya didn't think; he scarcely dared to breathe. He simply acted, flash-stepping forward, snatching Orihime up in arms that trembled shamefully and taking her away.

He wasn't the only one trembling; Orihime was shuddering like an aspen in a gale. "Byakuya," she gasped, shakily reaching to encircle his neck like a vice. He'd have minded, except his own arms were wound around her in a similar grip.

"Why were you fighting him?" he demanded, not slowing in the least. He sounded like he had gravel in his throat; that was probably due to how his heart felt like it had climbed there in the last thirty seconds. He had no idea where he was taking them. 'Away' seemed to be the only thought in his head, with 'somewhere safe' hovering around in there as well. He thought the memory of Kenpachi's sword a half-inch from Orihime's face would haunt the rest of his years.

"I was fighting Ikkaku-kun," she whispered. "Zaraki-taichou got bored and said I wouldn't last two minutes in a real fight and came at me."

They had to be in Second District of East Rukongai by now; Byakuya spotted a small woodsy area and took them there. He sat at the base of the first tree he came to, hauled her into his lap and pressed her face to his neck, his fingers sunk deep into her hair, waiting to regain his composure. "Never again," he told her. "If you want to practice and improve, you'll fight me or Renji or Rukia. Never those maniacs, never again."

"Renji used to be one of those maniacs," Orihime said. "But okay."

"And you'll stop dating all those men," he bit out. "They don't deserve to be in the same room as you, let alone touch you or kiss you." He was becoming quite angry again at the thought of it.

"And you do deserve it?" She tilted her head back to peer at his face, sounding amused.

_He _was not amused. "Yes," he told her shortly, and shoved her back against his neck. "Agreed?"

"Sure," she said easily. She was trembling again, but he wasn't sure this time she wasn't laughing.

Encouraged by her amenability, Byakuya thought now might be a good time to establish general ground rules. "No more wearing those pants when you do yoga. Unless it is in private. And I can watch."

"Sounds good," said Orihime. "Anything else?"

He couldn't think of anything else at the moment. "Why are you laughing?"

Orihime pulled free of his stifling embrace, wriggling until she straddled his lap. Then she combed his hair from his face before framing it in her hands, touching him like he was something infinitely precious.

"Because you're wonderful," she told him, her voice soft, "and I love you, and love you, and love you."

Byakuya wound his arms around her waist and tugged until she was flush against his chest. "If I don't kiss you this very moment," he informed her seriously, uncaring if she realized he'd been eavesdropping on her conversations with Rukia, "I am going to _die_."

She gave a little gasp of delight, and then she touched her mouth to his, the lightest press of lips possible, almost just a mingling of breath. Her eyes remained open, staring into his, and there was something in them that had Byakuya shaking again, from the force of something that had him feeling humble and fortunate beyond compare.

"Ah," she said, smiling. "There it is. That's what was missing."

"What is it?" he asked. He felt dazzled, dazed. "What was missing?"

Orihime slid her cheek along his until her lips touched the shell of his ear. "You."


End file.
